Tequila and Cigarettes
by Kiko-Butt
Summary: She wasn't a good person. She had watched the light fade from her victims' eyes and enjoyed it. She was damned in the eyes of most of the Avengers, her so called teammates, but she didn't really care all that much. After all she was damned before she even drew her first breath. She had gotten used to it and learned to have fun along the way. Captain America/OC
1. An Introduction

Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers or any Marvel character.

A/N: This story is going to center around an OC so if you are completely against them I would hit the back button. I don't blame you at all I am hesitant myself about reading stories that feature an OC.

I know there is a debate as to whether or not Agent Coulson is really dead, and as much as I would like him to be alive, I think it would make me yell "Come on! Really!" The next time I see him on screen, so in this story he is dead.

Please read and review!

* * *

Phillip Coulson was laid to rest on an annoyingly sunny day. It was hot, almost unbearably so, and there was only a slight breeze ruffling the drab clothing of those in attendance.

The grounds of the small cemetery were immaculate. The grass was the shade of green that made you stop and admire it for a second or two and the rectangular uniform headstones were a white that was almost painful to look at rows of headstones were interrupted here and there by flowers of various colors placed at some of the graves.

A small group of people were now gathered at a freshly dug grave, a casket ready to be lowered down into the newly made hole. Unlike many funerals there were no tears among those attending. Tears would be insulting to the memory of the man who had served his country admirably and died for it.

Pepper Potts stood next to the man that used to be her boss and was now her boyfriend. Boyfriend. It was such an ordinary word, a word that Pepper had always thought to domestic for the self-proclaimed superhero. There was nothing domestic about Tony Stark.

The strawberry blonde surveyed the others in attendance as she tried to wrap her head around the fact that Phil was no longer with them. He would never call her again saying he needed to debrief Iron Man. He would never walk unexpectedly come into her office to give her a chastising message to pass onto Tony. He would never have coffee with her again; the two of them swapping stories of their troubles in dealing with superheroes that acted more like children. Reaching down she grabbed Tony's hand and squeezed it as grief rose in her chest.

Across from where Pepper stood with Tony was Steve Rogers. Pepper had been rather surprised when she first met the ninety-two year-old superhero. She knew he had been frozen for seventy years, as Tony wouldn't stop complaining about him, but she hadn't expected him to look so young. Especially right now. His handsome face was struggling to remain placid, but it was obvious that Phil's death was affecting him deeply.

Natalie, or Natasha, as Pepper was constantly reminding herself, was standing on Steve's left and she looked as she always did. Her face betrayed no emotion. Pepper, unlike Tony had not been surprised when it was revealed that Natalie Rushman was really a super assassin. She had been just too damn good at her job. No normal human being should have been able to wrangle Tony. Excluding Pepper of course. Though the only female Avenger's face was neutral Pepper noticed she was standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder with the man standing next to her.

Pepper had never spoken to the man, but knew he was another super assassin. His name was Clint Barton, but everyone other than Natasha called him Agent Barton or Hawkeye. His face though just as impassive as his partner's had a haunted look to it that made Pepper shiver. There was something broken about his posture as well. Hands, most likely tightly clenched were shoved into pockets and shoulders were slightly hunched.

Tony's hand on her back brought Pepper back into reality. The agents were beginning to leave and Phil was being lowered into the ground. Tony looked at her questioningly as if to ask if she wanted to leave as well. Pepper answered with a shake of her head. Phil deserved a few more moments.

Movement on the other side of the steadily lowering casket caught her attention. Natasha's head had turned from watching Phil's decent to tracking something in the distance. Pepper's head turned to look at just what had caught the Black Widow's attention and a flare of anger brought heat to her cheeks.

Nick Fury who had left quietly through the middle of the proceedings was striding across the grass with a young woman by his side. Pepper had wanted to say something to him when he rose and left earlier, but didn't want to disrespect Phil by screaming at his lousy boss in the middle of his funeral. There was nothing good about Nick Fury in Pepper's eyes. He kept secrets, built weapons of mass destruction and nearly got Tony killed. Though the same could be said about Tony, since he did all of the above at one time or another, Pepper was admittedly biased.

Instead of staring at the man she had great dislike for Pepper chose instead to observe his companion. The first thing that the CEO of Stark Industries noticed about the girl next to Fury was that she wasn't dressed for a funeral, or the weather. A dark leather jacket clung to her thin frame and appeared to be slightly to large for the young woman. The jeans the black haired woman was wearing were also a little loose especially given they were supposed to cling to the skin. They bunched slightly in the thighs as she walked closer towards the dwindling group.

Fury and the woman, who Pepper saw was more of girl now came to a stop only a few feet from Hawkeye, who had turned to nod at the pair. The girl's face was almost painful to look at. The skin seemed to be pulled and there was a dark bruise that spread across the girl's right temple. Her lips were chapped and the bottom one was cut and swollen. The girl's coloring suggested she was Hispanic of some sort. She had dark eyes, that were glassy in an ill way, golden brown skin, where it wasn't purple tinged with green, and limp dark hair, which was currently pulled away from her face in.

The girl's glassy eyes were focused on the hole in the ground. Her hand was tightly clenched around the stem of a single white rose. The stem must not have been thorn less because Pepper saw a trickle of red liquid seep between the tightly clasped fingers.

A shift in Tony's stance brought Pepper's attention and she saw that she wasn't the only one observing the latecomer. The girl stepped forward and dropped the rose in the hole where Phil had come to rest. The bruised woman promptly turned around and began striding back in the direction she had come in.

Natasha moved quickly to catch up to her. The girl turned to look at the red haired woman. The assassin leaned toward the girl and said something to her. The ponytail swayed slightly as the girl nodded her head, and without speaking in return continued on her way out of the cemetery. Natasha made her way back to the group that now consisted only of the Avengers, Pepper and Fury. She lightly settled a hand on Agent Barton's shoulder. He turned his head towards her nodding and they quietly departed from the group.

There were no goodbyes to be said as there were plans to have drinks later on in Phil's honor. Pepper turned to Tony and gave him a small smile, conveying that she was now ready to go.

With Bruce in tow they made their way out of the cemetery.

* * *

The small bar that had been rented out for Phil's wake, it wasn't really a formal wake, was steadily emptying as agents came and went, but mostly went. Pepper was sitting with Bruce and Tony talking quietly, or as quietly as Tony Stark could talk. Steve was sitting alone at the bar nursing what Pepper swore was his sixteenth beer. Natasha and her partner were at another table speaking with a female agent that Pepper was told went by the name of Hill. Fury was speaking with another couple of agents at another table. The door to the bar opened and a rush of warm air accompanied the latecomer into the bar.

Dark eyes quickly caught sight of Natasha who made instant eye contact with the other woman. She quickly crossed the short distance and sat in the free chair next to the Black Widow.

Pepper jabbed Tony in the ribs, to get his attention. He and Bruce had been on a tangent about molecular something or other and Pepper knew it was the quickest way to gain his attention. "Do you know who she is?" Pepper questioned.

Tony looked over in the direction of Pepper's nod. "No, looks like shit though." The man with the metal suit got another jab in the ribs for the comment.

"She looks like she lost weight a little to quickly," Bruce commented quietly. The good doctor had seen the tightly stretched skin in rural areas of India where droughts or bad weather had ruined crops.

"Capsicle," Tony dramatically whispered. Steve looked up from the bar as Tony made some not so subtle hand motions. Sighing the super soldier made his way over to the little group. "Know who she is?" he asked with another not so subtle gesture to the girl sitting next to the assassins.

Steve turned to take in the girl he hadn't bothered to notice enter. "She was at the funeral before. She came late with Fury."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I thought you were Captain America not Captain Obvious." Iron Man received a blank stare.

Steve let out an irritated sigh, knowing that the joke was probably referencing something that he was unaware of thanks to his time in the iceberg. "If you want to know who she is just go ask her."

Taking it as a challenge the self proclaimed genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist and superhero made his way over to the mystery girl. The table grew silent at his approach. He came up directly behind her and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. The currently unknown girl turned to look up at him. "Yes," she rasped. Her voice was lightly accented and hoarse, as if she hadn't spoken in a long while.

"Who are you?" Tony asked without preamble.

The girl's eyes narrowed and the left side of her mouth curved upwards slightly. "It's rude to ask someone their name before introducing yourself."

"I don't need to introduce myself, I'm Tony Stark, and Iron Man." The self-confident signature smirk flashed across his face. "But you knew that." Tony sat down without invitation. "You however need an introduction."

"She's an Avenger." Nick Fury's voice cut across the room as he stood, making his way towards the table.

"Ah, no she isn't," Tony rebuked. The miscellaneous conversations around the bar had died down. Fury gave a pointed look to the unwanted agents currently listening. They didn't grumble as they got the message and quickly vacated the bar. The bar tender, a retired agent himself also excused himself. "Did she fight the alien army, kick Loki's ass and save the world?" the genius asked.

"He has a point," the girl rasped. Ignoring Tony's exclamation of agreement. "Besides, I get along better with wild animals than people."

Hawkeye laughed at this. "From the looks of your face you don't get along with them that well Lupa."

The girl now known as Lupa smiled tightly. The cut on her lip split open. "You belong on the team Lupa and you don't really have a choice in the matter," Fury said, his tone clearly stating that this was not an arguable point.

The girl's eyes narrowed. Natasha was the only one close enough to notice the tawny stripes that bled into the dark irises. "Am I being taken back into custody?" Lupa asked her hoarse voice containing a sharp edge to it.

"As long as you don't kill anyone else in the foreseeable future I think we can avoid that scenario." Fury said, tossing a cell phone at the girl. "Make sure you answer the next time S.H.E.I.L.D. calls." With that the director of possibly the most secretive secret agency in the world left with the dramatic swoop of his ever present leather coat.

There was silence for a moment.

The girl sighed. Looking over her shoulder at the slightly surprised billionaire she smiled crookedly. "My name is Ilena Machado. Most call me Lupa, and I am a mass murderer, but it seems my most recent title is Avenger."


	2. A Photograph

Ilena Machado stood outside the bar where all the Avengers currently residing on the planet Earth were. She took a long drag off her cigarette and blew out slowly. The door to the bar banged shut and she didn't need to turn to know Natasha was coming to a halt behind her.

"Great first impression." Lupa laughed. It was a harsh sound, but it was the first time she had laughed in months. "Those will kill you someday." Lupa's only reaction was to turn around and stare at the Black Widow.

The crafty assassin took the opportunity to swipe the cigarette out of her newly christened teammate's hand and took her own drag of the cigarette. "Come on! That's my first cigarette in months!" The black haired girl scowled at the red head and kicked at the ground as leaned against the red brick of the building. "You know they are probably drilling Hawk for information right now."

Natasha smiled darkly at her. "Why do you think I'm out here with you?" It drew another laugh from the younger woman. "Your little introduction probably freaked them out a little, but that was your goal was it not? Make them too weary of you for them to approach you and ask the questions directly to your face."

Dark eyes rolled skyward. "I just told the truth. Besides Stark made me feel insecure with his little intro, I had to up the ante somehow." It was the Widow's turn to roll her eyes.

"Where were you?" Natasha asked, her tone suddenly serious.

All the energy drained out of the bruised face. "Northwest Territories, I was making my way back to the States when I shifted back and caught the news in some small town in Manitoba. I'm sorry I wasn't there, but I probably would have done more harm than good if I had gotten called in."

Natasha nodded in understanding. "We managed. Your presence would have made things go a little smoother I believe." Lupa read the subtext of that sentence loud and clear. 'Phil would probably still be alive if you had come in like you were supposed to.'

"I wasn't in my right mind Tasha, probably am still not, if I ever was to begin with," Ilena said quietly.

Natasha threw the cigarette down on the ground and crushed it under her foot. "Well, you need to get over it. If you're going on any missions with me or Clint your head better be in the game, I don't want a repeat of last time." Lupa winced at the memory of when the three of them had last gone on a mission together. It was what had spurred her impromptu fieldtrip into the Canadian wilderness.

That had been three months ago.

"I'll try."

* * *

"Ok who the hell is she?" Tony asked as he watched his ex-personal assistant slip out the door of the bar. Iron Man, Captain America, the Hulk in human form and Pepper Potts all converged on a rather amused looking Clint Barton.

Clint looked from one Avenger to another, briefly settling on Potts' chest before he sighed and looked towards the door realizing Natasha had just deserted him. "She's exactly who she says she is."

Steve, usually a well-mannered young (if you didn't count the time spent in the ice) man looked rather irritated. "If she is a murderer why does Fury want her to join us?"

"What do you think Natasha and I are?" Barton shot back.

"You follow orders," Steve countered.

"I didn't always and neither did Natasha, and that is splitting hairs at best."

Tony shook his head. "I don't want to be on the same team as her, what if she tries to kill me?" The billionaire didn't really seem concerned about the possibility of Lupa being a killer, but chose to stir the pot as much as he could anyway.

Clint vaguely recalled listening to Natasha list off ways she could kill Tony Stark and get away with it. "Trust me she won't, you don't look like you would taste any good, to much hair gel." Clint laughed at his own little joke while Pepper gasped and a look of horror crossed the billionaire's face.

"She eats people too? Who is she Hannibal Lector's daughter?" Tony exclaimed, looking aghast.

"Who is Hannibal Lector?" Steve asked. Pepper, the only one who seemed to take the time to explain things to the poor Captain quickly introduced him to the famous fictional serial killer.

"How old is she?" Bruce's calm voice cut through the babble.

Hawkeye scratched his chin and rocked his chair back onto its hind legs. "Not really sure never asked, never really came up. Can't be more than twenty-four though by looks." The marksman let his weight for the chair to fall forward as he stood in one smooth motion. "Look Lupa is complicated. I don't know her full story and to be perfectly honest I don't really care all that much." With that Hawkeye strode out the door.

He turned to see Natasha leaning against the building with Lupa by her side. "Had a nice girl talk?"

"Mmm. Sure did, never knew you could bend like that Hawk," the black haired girl teased with a wink. Clint chuckled.

"You might wanna scram kid. They're getting worked up in there and unless you have the patience and energy to meet the firing squad I'd book it till you got a square meal and cleaned yourself up. Ya look like shit," Clint advised.

Lupa nodded and flashed sharp canines at the two super assassins before jogging off into the night.

"How is she?" the marksman asked his long time partner.

"Guilty," she answered. "She'll get over it though. She's been through worse. How are you holding up?" Clint shrugged and Natasha nodded. He swung an arm around her shoulder. "Lets get some fuckin' sleep."

* * *

The whole world felt like it was crashing down around Clint Barton. His partner, his Black Widow was dying and there was nothing anyone could seem to do about it.

How was that fucking possible? S.H.I.E.L.D had access to the best doctors in the world and not one of them could come up with a possible answer to what exactly was killing Natasha and how to stop it.

Pain shot up his left arm and Clint looked down at his bruised knuckles. Looks like he might have displaced one or two when he started punching walls. If Natasha had seen him she would have rolled her eyes and said something along the lines of, 'Men, always showing their feelings in idiotic and unconstructive ways.' Not that she could really talk about 'showing feelings' since she chose not to.

But Natasha wasn't here. She was lying in the medical bay, her organs failing.

Hawkeye swallowed tightly as Agent Hill walked into the canteen and caught his eye. He braced himself and met her in the corridor.

"She is asking for you." The male assassin nodded and refused to meet the female agent's eyes. He knew all he would receive was pity and he didn't want it. Natasha wasn't dead yet and she wasn't going to die.

* * *

The small hole in the wall teashop was not glamorous. It smelled slightly musty whenever it rained and held the odor faintly until it happened to rain again. It was quiet though, and the service was of a decent quality. They didn't exactly ignore their customers, but they weren't jumping up and down to serve them either.

That was the kind of service that Bruce Banner enjoyed. He liked his quiet, so when he actually felt like mixing with the general populous, or had enough of the illustrious Iron Man, he came to the quiet, musty smelling teashop.

Not that much mixing ever truly occurred. Bruce liked the shop because no one spoke to him other than to ask if he was having the usual, and he never spoke to anyone either. It was simple, quiet and lonely. Not that Bruce would ever admit that, especially not within recording distance of JARVIS.

Tony had been trying to set up his new best friend since the whole alien invasion. The man had even hired three strippers to tease the physicist out of his lab and give him a lap dance. That had been awkward and embarrassing especially when halfway through Pepper had walked in looking for Tony.

Pepper hadn't batted an eyelash though, just excused herself and continued looking for Tony. Iron Man was damn lucky to find a woman like Pepper Potts.

The door to the small teashop chimed open and Bruce looked up as something in him that felt uncomfortably like the Other Guy stirred.

He barely recognized the girl that entered. No longer was there bruising coloring half of her face, or skin pulled a little too tight. The gash that split her bottom lip into was healed and smooth. The lank dark hair was full and glossy falling down her back in subtle waves. Her eyes didn't connect with his, but Bruce could tell they no longer held the feverish look they did when he had first seen her.

Ilena Machado, or Lupa as Fury had called her made Bruce more nervous than he had let on. Unlike Captain America it wasn't her admittance to being a mass murderer that freaked the physicist out. It was the reaction of the Other Guy to her proximity that had Bruce worried.

Bruce was never one to get 'vibes' from people before the incident that started his need for anger management. After however, he had instincts that he had learned to follow. There were some people that set his teeth on edge, and Bruce knew it was essential to get away as quickly as possible, before he lost control. It wasn't Bruce's reaction to them though. It was the Other Guy who took instant dislike.

This girl did not provoke those 'smash on sight' feelings in the Other Guy though. On the contrary she provoked something even more dangerous. She provoked curiosity. The big fella was curious about the young woman who had caused a stir in the group of superheroes.

She spoke quietly to the girl at the counter. The only teashop worker nodded, sliding off her stool and headed behind the beaded curtain to the back room of the shop.

The black haired young woman waited at the counter stretching out her neck slowly. The collar of the t-shirt she was wearing pulled down slightly, and Bruce caught sight of the beginnings of a tattoo. She rolled her shoulders and the glimpse was gone.

The young blonde who worked the counter came back. Handing Lupa a small brown paper bag that was exchanged for some bills. Lupa turned around to head towards the door and for the first time looked directly at the doctor who had blatantly been staring at her since she entered. She looked him directly in the eyes and threw him a twisted smirk and a wink. Without saying a word to him she left the little teashop with another chime of bells.

Bruce shuddered slightly. The Other Guy was chomping at the bit to follow. Beating down the urge he resumed his data readings. That was a big can of worms he didn't want to open.

* * *

"Nat…" Hawkeye whispered as he quietly sat down beside his partner's bed. Natasha's long dark red hair was matted with sweat around her face. Her normally porcelain skin was sallow and sickly. Deep shadows were prominent under her eyes and her normally luscious red lips were chapped and pale.

Something in Hawkeye's chest clenched painfully at the sight of her. He had never seen Natasha look helpless. Not even when he had her cornered and was about to execute the order to kill her. She had stared at him stoically completely prepared for what was about to happen. There was a fire though in those blue-green eyes that gave him pause though. The voice in his ear told him to shoot. But instead he lowered his bow.

"Clint." The voice was weak and Clint looked up to see dull eyes staring at him. Clint reached forward slowly his hand moving within an inch of Natasha's lying on the bed, but not quite touching hers. There were things that he and Nat just didn't do and hand holding definitely fit in that category, despite the fact that Clint wouldn't have minded in the least. "Clint there's something on my back, it's burning."

The male assassin frowned and helped Natasha turn over pulling up the back of her sweat drenched shirt with slightly unsteady hands. Sharp hazel eyes quickly sought out the source of her discomfort, there just to the left of the middle of her back. Without thinking Clint brushed a single finger across the raised, red flesh. Natasha's screams from that light touch would haunt him for many nights to come.

* * *

Steve Rogers was frustrated. Sexually. Well, that too, but he was currently frustrated with the rectangular gray box in front of him. It was called an Automated Teller Machine and it was currently stumping the world's first superhero. Life had been a little difficult for the Captain after the Battle for New York ended.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had not sent him on any new missions for the past month and he was beginning to become restless. There were only so many punching bags in New York.

The idea for him to move into Stark Tower had come up once or twice as a way to help Steve assimilate to the new era he currently found himself in but Steve and Tony had both adamantly refused. Neither one of them, despite the understanding they had reached during the battle wanted to live under the same roof, no matter how many floors were in between.

The apartment that S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided was luckily undamaged when Steve returned to it. It was nothing fancy, rather Spartan given Steve hadn't really taken the time to try and make it a home. To Steve that was always a woman's task. It would have been Peggy's task.

Steve swallowed the thick knot that was forming in his throat and he tensed as he felt someone move up behind him. A golden brown arm with beads and a leather bracelet wrapped around a delicate wrist came forward punching the buttons and manipulating the screen.

Looking over his shoulder and down Steve took in a vaguely familiar face. Sooty lashes splayed across high cheekbones. "How much do you want to take out?"

The lightly accented voice brought Steve back into the present and jogged his memory as to who exactly this woman was. Ilena Machado, the mysterious sixth avenger who left the night of Phil's wake without a word, and had not had any contact with any of the Avengers or so Clint and Natasha claimed, but S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't have the greatest track record with honesty.

"Uhh Captain?" Her eyes, richer and darker than any chocolate Steve had ever had the opportunity to taste looked at him questioningly.

"Uhmm, sixty please if you wouldn't mind ma'am." Even if she was a cold-blooded killer like she claimed Steve's manners didn't have an off switch. The girl made the selection and the machine whirled into action. Quickly spitting out the appropriate amount of money. "Thank you." He collected his money and turned fully towards her.

A dark eyebrow rose. Far above them lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as rain came down from the heavens. Luckily they were both standing under an awning and protected from the downpour. "You need to take your card." Steve's eyes widened and reached for his card that the machine had decided to give back to him. The super soldier had almost had a nervous breakdown when the machine had seemingly ate the card that Agent Hill had told him to not lose.

"So is this a pure coincidence or have you been following me?" Several times in the last few days Steve had felt like someone had been keeping an eye on him. He had thought that a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was simply shadowing him to make sure he didn't get into trouble, but the girl's appearance out of nowhere made him rethink his previous assumption.

"Actually I have been asked to come collect you, you weren't answering your phone." The thing he had forgotten this morning suddenly clicked. She promptly turned around heading toward the nearby subway entrance. Turning her head she threw him a smirk over her shoulder. "So you noticed me watching did you."

Shock froze him four a couple of seconds before his feet moved to follow her into the rain.

* * *

Hawkeye's phone vibrated in his pocket. "What?" he all but growled into the communication device. He was on absolute edge. Natasha's condition was deteriorating fast and the doctors had all but given up hope. On top of that the strange markings that were forming on her back had increased in number.

S.H.I.E.L.D's linguistics division was analyzing the markings but not fast enough for Hawkeye's liking. Even if they figured out whether or not the raised red flesh held any meaning what could be done with that meaning?

And Fury. There was nothing Clint would like more than to put an arrow through that infuriating man's eye. The good one. He still refused to tell Clint what the goddamn mission was for or what possibly could have caused Natasha's deterioration.

"Well if you don't want to hear what I found you can just say so." Marty's southern drawl crackled slightly as it came out of the phone. Clint, frustrated with Fury's tactics and handling of the situation had taken matters into his own hands. He had photographed the symbols formed on Tasha's skin and sent them to a hacker friend of his that did free lance jobs for him, but didn't work directly for S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Speak and stop wasting my time."

"From what I found it is a variant of the ancient written language of the Maya, but none of the symbols completely match. The image match program brought up a pic though. It's a pic of a tattoo on some girl's back. The girl has more characters, but from what I can see two of them match up perfectly which is strange because like I said before none of the known characters in the Mayan alphabet match the ones on Natasha or this girl."

Clint resisted the urge to smash his phone. Nat was dying and all Marty could bring him was a _fucking_ tattoo! "What damn good is any of this?"

"You're not listening to me Hawk, the tattoo on the girl's back is the only thing that matched on the entire internet, of course the program is still running, but I don't think that anymore hits will come up. If you are going to get answers this girl might possibly be your only source."

"Where do I need to go?"

* * *

The day had begun well for one Tony Stark. He had woken up from a blissful night's sleep to the wonderful smell of Pepper's skin. After some fun in the shower with his favorite strawberry blonde he had had some groveling intern get him fresh doughnuts. The grease seeped through the sides of the brown paper bag and the pieces of fried dough were covered in cinnamon and sugar just the way he like it.

He had gone down to his lab for a couple of hours, screwed around a little bit with some calibrations for the Mach VIII and finally had pizza from his favorite joint with his BFF Bruce on the balcony of his newly repaired penthouse and watched the rain come down on the city.

"You remember that girl, the one at Coulson's wake?" Bruce's voice filtered through the endless stream of somewhat narcissistic thoughts that constantly filled the billionaire's head.

"Yeah Lector's daughter. Still haven't found her file, seems Fury got a little smarter after I hacked him the first time, but I'll find it sooner or later," Tony said through a mouthful of meat lovers. He had been trying off and on for the past month to find the file that would no doubt contain all sorts of dirty secrets. Up until now his expeditions had proven useless. Fury must have spent big bucks to find and secure minds that could secure S.H.I.E.L.D.'s computers from him.

"I saw her the other day." It was a quiet comment said as more of an after thought, but it caused quite the stir in the genius.

"You saw _her_?" It was a choked splutter. "And when were you planning on mentioning this?"

"I thought that's what I was doing now." Bruce took in the look of absolute betrayal on Stark's face.

"Sir, there is an incoming file for Doctor Banner from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters," JARVIS spoke. "It seems to be a mission file and requires immediate attention."

Stark jabbed a finger at Bruce. "This isn't over, we're going to have to work on your communication issues. I can't be in this relationship if you keep things from me Bruce." Bruce rolled his eyes as the two men made their way inside.

"Please project the file JARVIS," Bruce requested and watched as the file appeared on the tri fold workspace of Tony's.

One third displayed the mission objective, the next logistics time, date, and risk assessment, and the last displayed participants.

"Son of a bitch it's her file!" Tony exclaimed, quickly opening and sending its contents across the planes of the screen.

"Sir, Steve Rogers and an unknown guest have requested access to the penthouse."

"Granted," Tony shot while delving into the contents of the file. There were no videos of the girl in action but there were plenty of photos that seemed to center around one particular event.

"Jesus Christ," Bruce whispered as they both took in the carnage.

There was a ping as the elevator doors opened and Bruce and Tony both turned to watch as Captain America and the girl whose blood splattered body now hung in front of them step into the suite.

Steve Rogers footsteps faltered as brain processed images before him.

Lupa stared at her own face and cocked her head.

The single image was Lupa standing in a rectangular, various body parts and splashes of drying blood littered the ground around her. The cause of the carnage stood in the center, back to the camera, barefooted, calves and thighs painted with stripes of red up to a pair of simple tight black shorts. An intricate colorless tattoo started somewhere before the shorts ended and flowed across the planes of skin of the Lupa's back. A black band, which no doubt served as some sort of top, interrupted the ink as it climbed towards the girl's right shoulder blade, ending just below the right side of her neck. Lupa's neck was twisted and dark eyes stared directly into the camera. Her face was covered in a spray of ruby liquid, pink tongue running across a pouty bottom lip.

"Really not my best angle."

* * *

Hawkeye sat in the Podunk diner waiting for the girl to appear. Marty had done what he was best at and located the girl with the tattoo. That was how the best marksman in the world found himself in rural Kentucky being eye-fucked by a woman in her late forties with tired weather beaten skin and far too much eyeliner.

He would have been repulsed if it weren't for the dire situation he found himself in. He needed to find the girl with the tattoo. Glancing at the clock he gripped the coffee mug in his hand tightly. The stupid girl was fifteen minutes late for her shift. The hag had told him that she was always.

Hawkeye froze when his sharp eyes caught someone approaching the door of the diner through the window. A girl, the girl he was looking for walked in. The girl froze as her eyes caught his.

The assassin assessed his target. If there were one word to sum up her appearance it would be trashy. Denim shorts barely covered what they were supposed to and a see through top revealed a bright pink bra. The look was completed with fake lashes and hoop earrings.

"Ginger honey, your shift is done I'm sure I can take care of this one by myself." The words were said in voice that was supposed to be sultry, but came out a tad aggressive.

The hag rolled her eyes gabbing a handbag and leaving without a word. Hawkeye and his prey were left alone in the diner, as the fry cook had stepped out for a cigarette. Hazel eyes tracked the girl as she sauntered to his table and sat down.

"Now what can I do for you?" she purred. Dark eyes running up and down his form. Unlocking his phone Agent Barton pulled up the picture of Natasha and slid his phone across the table, watching carefully for how the girl reacted, as it would determine his next move.

Acrylic tipped fingers picked up the phone and dark eyes briefly looked away from the subject of their admiration. For a brief second Hawkeye caught a glimpse of pure rage before fake eyelashes fluttered and facial muscles worked into a more placid expression.

It wasn't something Clint was expecting to see. "Well, color me surprised. It's not every day you run across something like this." She put the phone down and slid it back to him. There was a moment of silence.

"Do you know what it is?" Clint tried to push the hope that was beginning to build in his chest.

A nod.

"How do I stop it?"

The girl across from him cocked her head. "You can't." A muscle in Clint's jaw tightened and jumped. The girl's eye's softened slightly. "I can."

* * *

"Sir Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff have just landed on the roof," JARVIS informed the penthouse.

This seemed to unfreeze the room. "Have you looked through the mission file Doctor?" Lupa asked, looking at Bruce with a perfectly innocent smile on her face.

"No, no, no, he is not going anywhere with you, you're a psychopath," Tony protested. The billionaire stepped slightly in front of Bruce as Steve edged towards the other two putting distance between himself and Lupa.

The elevator dinged open again and out stepped the two assassins in full gear. "Nice pic Lupa. Not your best angle though," Clint joked.

"How can you joke about this," Steve cried angrily, a hand sweeping at the image.

"There is no way in hell that Bruce is going on a mission with her," Tony added.

Natasha threw a duffle at Steve and walked to the worktable, exiting Lupa's folder and bringing up the mission again. "Yes he is, he will just be there for medical support, he will stay in the carrier the entire time. Hawkeye and Lupa will provide cover and distraction. Cap and I will be infiltrating and extracting the target."

"The target being what exactly?" Bruce questioned.

"A formula, this facility is making another attempt at creating the super soldier," the Widow answered.

"Wouldn't a more covert extraction be better?"

The red head nodded. "It would, but unfortunately our mole was found out and they will be starting human trials very soon. There is no time to get someone else in position."

Bruce frowned. "And I am really going just to provide medical support?"

"Well if shit hits the fan and they have already started testing I'm sure you'll come in handy," Hawkeye said with a smirk.

Tony let out an exasperated noise. "Hey, what about the issue at hand." He pointed at Lupa. "She is a crazy killer who seems to enjoy the taste of blood, what kind of distraction are you gong for here?"

"To be fair, I was high as a fuckin' kite when I was licking the blood off my face," Lupa said.

"You were high, well that makes everything better," Tony snarked.

Natasha rolled her eyes and let out her own exasperated noise. "That was a mission, those weren't innocent people."

Voices erupted at this new bit of information. "That doesn't matter, just because they weren't innocent they didn't deserve to die like that," said the good Captain.

"She was high on a mission?" Bruce exclaimed.

"What the hell were you high on?" Tony asked completely bewildered.

"It doesn't matter," Natasha said her voice wavering slightly from frustration. "Cap suit up," she commanded Steve. "You get your medical bag," was shot at Bruce. "You get the carrier prepared for take off." Hawkeye was already headed toward the elevator. The look on the redhead's face clearly communicated that arguing would be pointless.

"There is a bathroom that you can change in Captain Rogers down the corridor," JARVIS announced. Steve, with a glare in Natasha and Lupa's direction, stalked down the hallway. The physicist left as well to collect his bag.

"I don't like this I'm coming too," Tony protested. The Black Widow sent Lupa a pointed look. The young woman quickly followed in Hawkeye's footsteps. The red haired assassin was downright scary when she wanted to be.

* * *

Nick Fury, director of the most secret, secret agency ever created was currently feeling a massive headache coming on. His top agent was lying in a bed dying and his second top agent had just brought him what appeared to be a hooker and was saying that this girl might be able to save said top agent.

"Agent Barton consider yourself on suspension as of now." Fury turned to leave to actually attend to important matters when aforementioned hooker stepped into his path.

"Look one-eye I'm here because Romeo over there found me and you should be lucky he did because Juliet got herself cursed by a pretty powerful brujo so if you don't want her to die, which she will, than allow me to do what I came here to do."

Said headache was now in full force as he stared down at the girl. If she was who he thought she was and could do what she claimed… "Alright," he agreed.

"Good I'm going to need two bowls of water, a knife and some cayenne," the girl said. Fury blinked at her.

"Agent Barton escort our guest to the med bay whilst I get someone to collect the necessary items," Fury commanded while giving Barton a look that promised a shitty mission was in his near future. As long as Natasha survived the marksman would happily take any mission.

"Your boss is a dick."

* * *

Being in a jet thirty thousand feet in the air with a psychopath was not something that Bruce Banner ever wanted to experience, but here he was. There were no words spoken once the five people all were situated in the carrier and headed to their destination.

She was sitting directly across from him with her eyes closed. Steve was on his left and watching the girl as if she were going to spring at them any second. With one hand Bruce reached up and scratch the back of his head. The Other Guy seemed to move and shift inside of him. Bruce's temper however was in check. The Other Guy wasn't trying to come out, just strangely active. It was an unsettling feeling.

"We're fifteen minutes out from our landing point," the Widow spoke from the seat. "Lupa, your up." Eyelids fluttered, but instead of revealing chocolaty orbs, amber gems burned in their place. Beside him Steve stiffened. The hatch at the back opened, wind whipping through the body of the aircraft and Bruce could feel the plane lowering.

The black haired girl stood stretching out her neck, and then whipped her t-shirt off, revealing the tattoo on her back and the same style black tube top that she had worn in the picture. Bruce averted his eyes quickly, knowing her pants were bound to follow. By the clearing of Steve's throat and his blush Bruce figured he had been right. Barefoot the girl walked toward the open hatch. She turned around standing on the very edge.

Catching his eyes the crazy young woman sent him another twisted smirk and a wink before falling backwards out of the plane. The hatch closed after her departure.

"She'll be okay right?" Steve asked after a few moments. She had after all just fallen a distance that would kill any normal human.

"See for yourself," Hawkeye answered. He pointed and both of the passengers crowded the piloting area to follow the direction he pointed in with their eyes. Through the trees, Bruce caught sight of a white blur slightly ahead of them and moving at an incredible rate. A clearing was coming up and Bruce kept his eyes trained on the tree line waiting for the shape to come into the empty space.

It burst from the tree line and paused for a second looking over its shoulder and up. It was a wolf, snow white in color and if it was closer or Bruce had better eye sight he knew the eyes would be gold in color. The wolf, Lupa, turned back around and darted into the trees again.

"She will open a path for us to enter once were landed," Hawkeye informed the two gawkers.

"What is she?" Steve questioned, voice sounding slightly amazed by Lupa's transformation.

The male assassin smirked. "She's a bruja." Steve's face contorted in confusion.

The physicist took pity on him. "She's a witch."

* * *

Everything was set up. Natasha was now lying on the floor with two bowls of water on either side of her head. The girl who Hawkeye had been informed was called Ilena on the ride to headquarters was dumping the cayenne powder into both bowls.

Fury and a team of doctors and other miscellaneous medical staff were watching. They had moved into a larger room to accommodate everyone. She grabbed a napkin that she had drawn one of the Mayan or not Mayan characters on.

"Knife." Clint handed Ilena the knife.

"I'm going to need your help. I have to cut this symbol into both my palms, but I won't be able to do the other one. "It has to be exactly right, you fuck up and she dies." Right no pressure. Ilena pressed the knife into the flesh of her palm until blood welled at the point of contact. "It doesn't have to be deep, just enough to draw blood." She spoke as she drew the knife across her palm, easily cutting the character into herself. It was obvious by her lack of response to the pain this action was no doubt causing that it was not the first time she had done this.

Once finished she held out the knife then her palm to Clint, who took it and with a steady hand cut the symbol drawn on the napkin. Ilena breathed in deeply at the pain. As soon as it was finished she moved to kneel by Natasha's head.

"Okay kids, here's the thing. We are both going to scream, she may even thrash around a bit, but under no circumstances can you touch either one of us till it's done." Reaching out a bleeding hand Ilena painted the same character on Natasha's face. There was no reaction from the unconscious assassin.

"How will we know when it is done?" Hawkeye questioned.

Dark eyes held his for a moment. "When the screaming is over." And with that Ilena plunged both hands both hands into the bowls. Natasha's eyes instantly flew open and the promised screaming began.

* * *

The mission did not go well. At least not for Captain America. It began well, they landed and the security detail outside of the compound were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, babbling about a giant wolf. Getting in was so simple when the path was cleared for them. They entered the facility, taking down anyone in the process, whoever was monitoring the cameras was obviously too preoccupied with the overgrown canine outside to direct much trouble their way.

It wasn't until they were almost outside that problems began. It seemed that the company had indeed tested their formula on humans. Luckily for the Widow and the Captain the serum decreased intelligence, but damn if it didn't make them strong.

Not all intelligence was completely taken away however, proved when one of the beefed up lab rats picked up a solid metal chair and aimed directly for the Captain's left knee. White burst across Steve's vision for a second as pain ripped through him.

Everything was a little fuzzy after that. His memory cleared when they were in the woods and Natasha, who was struggling to support him yelled for someone. All of a sudden the wolf was in front of him. Its head was at his eye level as it took him in. The glowing amber orbs had an oddly calming effect on him

"His knee is out, can you carry him?" The red head's voice sounded like it was underwater as the wolf stepped forward and then lay down at his feet.

"Cap I need you to get on her back and hang on." That was definitely the strangest order anyone had ever given him, but the Captain's pain addled mind complied. He hobbled with Natasha's help so that he was straddling the wolf.

Underneath him the wolf gently came to a standing position and Steve's boot clad feet left the ground. It was an odd sensation, and was not at all like riding a motorcycle. Growing up in Brooklyn, Steve never had the opportunity to ride a horse and he briefly imagined how he would tell Bucky, if he had been alive, that he rode a giant wolf.

As Lupa walked in the direction of the aircraft, Steve felt muscles bunch and stretch beneath him. He lightly leaned forward and grasped white fur. Widow darted in front of them setting a pace for their journey as the yells and sirens of the compound fell away.

The wolf's head twisted around to look at Steve as if to ask 'You ready?'

The Captain nodded in response and gripped the fur a little tighter. He felt the power in the wolf's body as muscles tightened and the wolf surged forward into the darkness. It wasn't fast but it was enough to knock his balance slightly askew forcing Steve to grip the wolf's sides with his legs and fire traveled up and down his leg in response.

He let out a groan and clenched his jaw to try and keep a hold on the pain. The wolf let out a huff. Steve could faintly hear the engines of the carrier and wanted to sigh with relief.

The aircraft bounced into view, the Black Widow already running up the open back. Steve gripped the wolf's fur tighter as the wolf's gate increased in speed and claws scrapped on the metal ramp.

The hatch closed behind them.

"Bruce help me get Cap off of her," Natasha ordered. The wolf bent awkwardly trying to get the injured man as close to the ground as possible. Hands guided Steve to lean on the side of his good leg as the wolf's form beneath him seemed to shrink and twist. He was laid out on one of the benches against the wall of the aircraft.

"I can't do anything for him other than put him out of his misery."

"Do it, Lupa can fix him once we get back to Stark Tower."

Bruce's face appeared in his line of sight. "It's going to just be a little pinch kid, you're gonna be fine."

He nodded turning his head to the side. Blue eyes met chocolate and Lupa gave him a small smile. It was the last thing he saw before darkness took him.

* * *

Ilena awoke to the familiar feeling of a mind-numbing headache. Tequila didn't have jack shit on a magically induced hangover. Her head neck and shoulders ached and her mouth felt dry, but no amount of water would quench this thirst. The burning itch to tap into the wellspring of power inside her started in her fingers, but she knew from experience it would soon spread.

"You're awake." It wasn't a question and Ilena groaned. She didn't want to deal with the Cyclops right now. "You're an interesting individual Miss Machado. There is very little about you on paper. No school or medical records of any kind, just a small piece of paper, barely a birth certificate by the standards of the United States verifies your existence. Now I can change that."

Ilena sat up and looked at him. She tilted her head to one side. "Why would I want that?"

"Because I'm betting you, Miss Machado are tired. You're tired of living on the fringes of society. You can't get very far in this world without a high school diploma. I can get you that not to mention citizenship. I will also set you up with a home somewhere of your choosing and a decent salary." Fury watched Ilena's face as she took this in.

"What do you want in exchange," she asked leaning back and crossing her legs. "Nothing in this world is free."

"Indeed. I want you to teach my agents about magic, as you have seen we are woefully unprepared to deal with it. If you have an interest in becoming an agent yourself you will be trained and your talents will be put to good use. I also want you to inform me of anything and everything you know about Franco Machado. "

Ilena's eyes narrowed at the name. "Deal."

* * *

Voices were the first thing that informed Steve that he was returning to consciousness. He groaned and dug his head into the soft warmth that smelled faintly of smoke and vanilla.

"Uhh Captain?" Steve turned his head up and looked directly up to see two mounds covered in black fabric and past those to a dark halo and rich, chocolaty eyes. Steve swallowed and quickly sat up.

"Awww the Captain of Virginity is blushing!" Tony crowed from the chair across from the couch. Bruce was sitting in another chair next to the man Steve would so badly like to punch at this moment. Both Clint and Natasha were gone.

"How's the knee feel?" At the doctor's words a hand flew to his left knee that amazingly didn't hurt one bit. Steve bent and stretched his leg out, nothing, no pain or even twinge of discomfort. He stood putting all his weight on his left leg. "How?" he asked, wonder clear in his voice.

"Magic apparently, Miss Witch over there did it while you were in a drug induced coma, by the way how is that possibly I thought you were pretty much immune given your metabolism. You were out for a couple hours," Tony answered.

Bruce smiled and chuckled a bit. "That would be because I shot him full of horse tranquilizers."

"You keep those in your bag of goodies doctor?" Ilena commented lightly.

The head of dark curls nodded. "Never know when they may come in handy."

Steve ignored the conversation going on as he sat back down on the couch next to the witch. His mind was struggling to reconcile the fact that somebody who up until now he thought was an unhinged maniac healed his knee.

"So in your file it says that you're unstable after performing magic, does that mean you're going to go ape shit on us now? And do you really eat people because I can tell you right now that I would not taste good, it's the hair gel," Tony rambled. Or at least Steve thought it sounded like rambling.

Laughter bubbled from the black haired girl. "No, sorry I'm not hungry right now."

The topic of discussion reminded Steve of the photograph and he shuddered lightly. "How can you joke about that?" All laughter in the room vanished at his tone. "Those people, you ripped them apart. They had families, and friends don't you even think about that?"

Dark eyes didn't stray from his blue. "I guess I'm just a bad person."

Bitterness born from living through a war controlled Steve's tongue. "That's more than being a bad person. You're inhuman." As he said it he looked away. His baby blues didn't catch the glimpse of pain his words caused.

A twisted smirk grew across smooth lips. Ilena stood and walked toward the elevator. "Maybe you're right."

* * *

Feet pounded on pavement as Ilena ran through the nearly dead streets of New York City. It was three in the morning and even the city that never sleeps has to slow down at some point.

His comment shouldn't have affected her. Long ago Ilena accepted the fact that she wasn't like everyone else. No one would ever truly understand what it is like to have power like she did living inside them. No one would understand the urges, the desires, the sheer burning need to let it out and revel in the destruction that followed. Ilena held few illusions about just how morally curropt she had become. But she couldn't help it, or that is what she told herself. Perhaps shield herself from her own thoughts. Ones along the same lines as the Captain's.

Inhuman. True. Maybe. Why did it hurt so much to hear him say it?

Hairs on the back of her neck stood up as Ilena felt the person following her pick of their pace. The ghost who had been shadowing her for four blocks was finally making a movie. The young woman thought it was just a pickpocket looking for an easy target.

She slowed her jog down to a walk. Whoever was following would think she was just going into her cool down. They came in closer and Ilena allowed her magic to probe the person. It had been itching to be used since she had healed the Captain's knee and glee ran through her as it was released. Ilena stretched out her arms as she waited.

A sinister smile spread across her face as her magic came back with an answer. The man following her was no run of the mill pickpocket. He was a twisted individual. Someone whose behavior would never change no matter how many times they were locked up or whatever rehabilitation program they were put in. It would never kill the urge. She fought down a shudder of excitement as magic filled her veins and altered her senses. It was like a sweet song she no longer felt the need to resist.

Ilena allowed herself to be dragged into the nearby alley before she showed the man exactly who was in control. The screams that filled the quiet night soon after were music to her ears.

* * *

A/N: Thank You to anyone who decided to give this story a try. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter, just so you know reviews make me ridiculously happy.


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